


The Place To Lose Your Fears

by petzawentz



Category: Cobra Starship, Gym Class Heroes
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dom/sub Undertones, Falling In Love, Gabe's an Aesthetic Model, Gabe's kinda socially awkward, Insecurity, M/M, Sappy, Travie's an Aesthetic Photographer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:43:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petzawentz/pseuds/petzawentz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabe blows some smoke out, and gives Travie a confused look, ignoring the clicking of the camera. “I’m not <em>doing</em> anything though, what do you mean?” </p><p>Travie snorts, and shrugs. “You don’t have to do anything, just keep smoking, and keep reacting to me babe, you do it beautifully.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Place To Lose Your Fears

**Author's Note:**

> My friends are awful enablers, and at this point I'm just going to start automatically adding the 'dom/sub undertones' tag to all of my fics.
> 
> Also, this totally counts as a Valentine's Day fic, right?

“I really don’t get why you won’t let me take pictures of your face, you’ve just got this...aesthetic face, y’know?”

Gabe laughed, and shook his head at Vicky. “Yeah I know, you tell me every time we have a session together.” 

“Because it’s _true_! The fact you’re not letting me take pictures of it is honestly hurting me.” Gabe laughed again, and patted Vicky on the shoulder mock-comfortingly.

“I’m sorry, if I let you take more pictures of my wrists again sometime will that make you feel better?” Vicky glared at him, then began to smile sweetly at him.

“Only if you let me call Ryland in with the paints.”

Gabe groaned. “Vicky you know how I feel about the paints.” She just shrugged, and he sighed. “Okay, fine. Just tell him it better not take two hours again okay? I _do_ have a life.”

Vicky waved her hand in what could be interpreted as a ‘yeah yeah yeah’ gesture, but was more than likely a ‘shut up I’m getting back in the zone’ gesture. Gabe fell silent, and let Vicky direct him into the right lighting, the right position, and the right whatever else she needed.

Gabe honestly didn’t know how, but Vicky always found a way to make the pictures of him look good, so it’s not like he was going to complain.

One thing Gabe liked about working with Vicky, is that once she was behind her camera, she didn’t expect -or want- Gabe to make conversation with her. Outside of ‘a little to the left’ or ‘move your arm up a little’, and the soft music playing in the background, they worked in complete silence, and that’s exactly how Gabe liked it.

Unlike a few other photographers he’d worked with, Vicky also didn’t push too hard for anything outside of Gabe’s comfort zone. She let him know how pretty she thought his bone structure was, and how aesthetically pleasing she found the rest of his body, but she never went higher up than his neck and she never asked him to remove any clothes, so she was definitely a favorite of his.

The time also passed quickly, since Gabe was able to zone out, and sooner than expected, their two hours were up, and they were looking over the pictures

Gabe was always awed by how good photographers could make him look, but there was always something special about how Vicky took pictures of him. His favorites from that particular shoot were the ones involving his hands.

There was a set of him just holding a cigarette -kudos to Vicky for making something awful look so pretty-, his hands cupped with flowers in them, and his personal favorite, covered in glitter and tangled in a close up of his own hair from behind.

They gave his body an almost ethereal glow, and if he was someone seeing the pictures for the first time, he’d think he was one of the most beautiful things in the world. He’d always admired photographers for that, and if he was being honest with himself, it was what made his job so enjoyable.

After they’d finished going through the photos, and Gabe had given his okay (as if he ever _wouldn’t_ for Vicky) he was changed back into his own clothes, and was ready to go home. He was nearly out the door, when he was stopped by Vicky calling for him.

When he turned to face her, she had her phone in hand and her business face on.

“What’s up V? Bored without me already?” She let out a sarcastic ‘ha!’ before looking serious again.

“Not quite, one of my friends just texted me, asking about you.”

Gabe gave her a confused look. “Um, no offense but that sounds a little…”

“No! Not like-no he wants, he takes pictures like I do, and he was wondering if you’d model for him.” Gabe considers for a moment, before he shrugs.

“Well, is he decent? There’s no chance of him murdering me right?” Vicky rolls her eyes.

“His name is Travie, he’s a great guy, I’ve worked with him, William has too if you want more information. He won’t murder you, and he pays.” She turns back to her phone, but gives Gabe a glare first. “You need to raise your standards babe, you’re too good for just anyone who won’t murder you.”

Gabe rolls his eyes, and is preparing a witty comeback, but then Vicky’s sliding her phone into her pocket and smiling at him. “I just emailed you his information, and told him you’d be in contact,” she points a finger at him “ _don’t_ make me look bad.”

When Gabe scoffs, she just smirks at him, then turns back towards her studio. Gabe sighs to himself, and heads out the door.

He’s secretly pleased there’s someone interested in him, and even happier that it’s someone he’s never even met. Being the model instead of the photographer doesn’t always get him the recognition one would expect, so this is a nice surprise.

Later, when he’s finally done putting it off, he opens Vicky’s email, and follows the link to this Travie’s website. Gabe likes his work, a lot.

He seems to lean more towards doing body pictures, there’s a lot of backs, couples’ legs twined together, a few of a woman’s body with fairy lights on her, and close ups of water droplets sliding down a person’s stomach. There’s also the sponsored photoshoots, promoting Adidas, and some other brands too.

Gabe’s favorite ones though, are the full body pictures. They range from completely clothed, to the model wearing nothing but their underwear. In some, the models are smiling, and holding a mug, or a cigarette, or a pen, and one is even holding a camera. Some are staring out a window, or at the sky, or seemingly off into space. There’s one of their -apparent- mutual friend William, where he’s running a brush through his hair.

Some of them shouldn’t work as well as they do, but for some reason, Gabe’s entranced, and the next time he looks at the clock, it’s been almost two hours since he sat down.

He blinks, then opens up his email. It looks like he’s booking a meeting with Travis McCoy.

\---

Gabe glances nervously at his phone, making sure for the eighteenth time that the cafe is the right place -even though he’d suggested it-, that the time is right -even though he’d picked it, and confirmed it with Travie-, and that he’s got the day right.

According to the email, the notification he’d set on his calendar, and the reminder he’d made in his notes, he’s at the right place at the right time, so he pockets his phone again with a sigh, and goes to find somewhere to sit.

Five minutes later, there’s a tall -even by Gabe’s standards- man, with a bag slung over his shoulder approaching his table.

He introduces himself as ‘Travis McCoy, but you can call me Travie’ and proceeds to spark up a conversation. It flows nicely, and Gabe feels almost none of the nervousness he usually does when meeting new people.

They talk about everything, including music, they talk about where they were from, how they wound up where they are now, and by the time they finally get around to discussing photography, there’s no doubt in Gabe’s mind that he is _definitely_ going to work with this man.

When they _do_ finally start talking about their jobs, Travie opens with, “I’m not gonna lie, I was figuring you were like, really ugly or something and that’s why no one took pictures of your face or body or anything.” Gabe opens his mouth to argue, looking affronted, but Travie just holds up a hand and laughs. “Wait a minute, I’m not done. That’s what I _figured_ , but now? Now I’m just really wondering why no one’s taken any pictures of your face. I mean, the rest of your body too, but what. are you unphotogenic or something?”

As Travie rambles, Gabe can feel his face getting warmer, and when Travie stops and looks up at Gabe again, he grins. “Uh, you ok man?”

Gabe nods. “No yeah I’m-I just don’t-you really-”

“I didn’t mean to offend you, if that’s what-”

Gabe shakes his head vigorously. “No! No you didn’t-I’m just not used to…” He trails off awkwardly, and Travie raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Compliments?” Gabe blinks, and nods. “Uh, yeah? I don’t really, get them.” Travie shakes his head, looking confused.

“How can you not get compliments? You work with at _least_ five different photographers regularly that I know of, and I _know_ Vicky’s always going on about how aesthetically pleasing she finds your face, how the _hell_ …?”

Gabe shrugs. “I don’t know, people don’t really-I don’t really let people take pictures of my face or anything so there’s nothing for them to comment on.”

Travie shakes his head and tsks. “Well that’s a damn shame, you’re too pretty to go uncomplemented.”

He says it nonchalantly, and takes a drink of the coffee sitting in front of him. Gabe smiles, a pleased sort of warmth settling in his stomach, and does the same.

The conversation moves on from there, though the blush never fully leaves Gabe’s face, as Travie somehow manages to squeeze in some random compliments here and there.

When they finally finish, and decide to part ways, they set up their first shoot together for three days later. When Gabe asks why so soon, Travie just shrugs and says he’s got plans, and he doesn’t want to wait to have Gabe in his studio.

Gabe leaves the cafe with a wide smile on his face, and doesn’t even realize they talked for almost three hours until he gets home, and finally checks his phone. He doesn’t think he’s _ever_ talked to someone that long without it becoming awkward at some point, and despite all the compliments Travie gave him, their conversation never once veered anywhere near uncomfortable.

Gabe goes to bed that night feeling excited, and absolutely counting down the hours until he can see Travie again.

\---

The entire hour before Gabe has to be at Travie’s studio, he panics.

He spends a good fifteen minutes worrying about his outfit, before realizing Travie’s going to have something for him to change into when he gets there. Then he worries about his hair, before realizing he doesn’t let people take pictures of his face.

By the time he actually looks at the clock again, he realizes he’s going to be late if he doesn’t leave _right now_ , and panics again. He almost forgets his phone, and then he almost forgets to grab his car keys.

When he finally gets to the studio, he sits in his car for five minutes before actually working up the nerve to go inside. After he knocks, it’s an agonizing two minutes before Travie answers the door, and when he does, Gabe almost forgets how to breathe.

How he managed to forget how, well, _hot_ Travie is in a matter of days is beyond him, but after a good look at Travie’s smile, his hair, his eyes, his body, and just _everything_ , Gabe’s questioning his own ability to remember anything correctly.

He dimly realizes that he’s been invited inside, and as soon as he steps inside, he’s immediately calmed.

Travie’s got everything in his studio that he could possibly ever want to work with, including a dining room table and chairs, a large four post bed, a blank white wall, and several dressers with lots of objects piled on top of them.

Gabe doesn’t know if it’s the music Travie’s got going, or just the general friendly vibe the room gives off, but his nerves have calmed considerably, and before he can stop himself, he’s pointing at the bed with a laugh.

“What, do you live here or something?” Travie looks up from where he’s messing with his camera, and laughs along with him.

“Nah, I do a lot of shoots on there.” He shrugs, and grins suggestively at Gabe. “Besides, working with models? You never know when you’ll need a nice bed.”

Gabe feels his cheeks begin to heat, and Travie’s grin becomes less suggestive and more playful. “I’m just messing with you babe, now, you wanna get to it?”

He gestures towards a pile of clothes he’s got resting on one of the chairs, and Gabe moves over to them to start looking through them. It’s mostly grungy kind of outfits; a jean jacket, a leather jacket, a couple of vintage looking shirts, a pair of distressed skinny jeans, a pair of vans, and to top it off, large 80’s style sunglasses.

Travie explains he wants to start out with things he knows Gabe’s comfortable with, like clothed shoots (from the neck down), and then maybe move onto some that include his face.

When Travie mentions taking pictures of his face, he poses it like a question, and gives Gabe a searching look, like he’s waiting for him to object. All Gabe does though, is nod, because for some reason, letting Travie take pictures of his face doesn’t bother him half as much as the idea of doing it for anyone else does. He’s glad he agrees though, because the small pleased smile on Travie’s face once he does is completely worth it.

The warm up shoots go well, and Travie keeps up a running commentary in between telling Gabe how to pose. He doesn’t seem to expect Gabe to answer, but doesn’t object when he does, and it’s easy to find a balance.

They finish the set relatively quickly, and sooner than Gabe figured, Travie’s asking him to move over to his makeup stand. He bites his lip, unsure, and must get lost in his thoughts, because he doesn’t notice Travie’s next to him, until he has a hand resting on his shoulder. Gabe jumps, and Travie gives him a concerned look.

“Hey, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, you know that right? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Gabe shakes his head, and fiddles with the hem of his shirt.

“No, I want to, it’s just.” He pauses, and bites his lip again, before crossing his arms. “New. It’s new and I haven’t done it before.” He gives Travie a smile, and tries to look convincing. “I’ll be fine, okay?”

Travie gives him a dubious look, but nods anyway. “Okay, but if you feel uncomfortable at all just tell me and we’ll move on.” Gabe lets out a breath, then heads over to the makeup stand.

“I’m sure I want to do this, just. Let’s do it before I change my mind okay?” Travie huffs a laugh, and follows him.When he’s finished, he quickly gets himself back into photographer mode. “Right, for this, I want you sitting on the bed, however you feel comfortable, sound good?” Gabe nods, biting his lip again, and goes over to the bed, hovering unsurely beside it, before Travie takes notice.

“Just get in the middle alright? I’m not gonna go any higher than your nose, and I want....” He trails off, and fixes Gabe with a considering look. Gabe’s crawled onto the bed as Travie’s talked, and he’s just about to ask what Travie’s looking at, but as he opens his mouth, Travie seems to shake himself. “Do you smoke?”

Gabe blinks, confused. “Um, yeah? Not much but I do occasionally.” Travie nods slowly, and opens one of his many drawers, digging through it for a few minutes, before turning back around and tossing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter towards Gabe.

“Light up, I’ve got a genius idea baby boy.” Gabe fumbles with the lighter at the nickname, and ducks his head. 

“What exactly does this genius idea consist of?” 

Travie chuckles, and picks up his camera. “Nothing much, just that cigarette and that pretty blush you get whenever I compliment you.” Gabe gapes at him, and Travie grins at him. “And _that_ is exactly what I’m talking about, keep that up babe.”

Gabe blows some smoke out, and gives Travie a confused look, ignoring the clicking of the camera. “I’m not _doing_ anything though what do you mean?” 

Travie snorts, and shrugs. “You don’t have to do anything, just keep smoking, and keep reacting to me babe, you do it beautifully.” Gabe takes a deep breath, and that’s how the rest of the afternoon continues.

They do several shots, and just like Travie promised, he doesn’t go any higher than Gabe’s cheekbones and nose. A few times, he tells Gabe to blow the smoke down, towards his chest, or tilt his head up and blow straight out.

That would’ve been fine, except the entire time Travie’s _talking_.

It’s mostly little things at first, like ‘absolutely beautiful Gabe’, and ‘just like that baby’.

Then, Gabe starts getting used to it. The comments don't phase him -as much- anymore to the point of blushing like Travie wants, just some awkward shifting, and Gabe can tell the exact moment Travie notices, because then he changes his tune.

The first time, he says ‘fuck yeah baby boy, lemme see those pretty lips’, and Gabe pauses with the cigarette barely an inch from his lips, his eyes wide in shock and staring straight at Travie.

Travie just smirks at him, and takes another picture. He gives Gabe a minute to recover, then says, ‘c’mon sweetheart, give me those fuck me eyes’. Gabe can feel that damn blush creeping up his neck, along with a tingly feeling running up his spine, and glares at Travie. Travie just laughs, and tosses Gabe another shirt.

Gabe’s confused as to why at first, but then he puts it on, and he can see why Travie wants it on him. It’s tight, and swoops down into a V shape, that will show off Gabe’s collarbones.

After that, things continue much the same way, and by the time Gabe and Travie have looked at the shots on Travie’s laptop -while Travie runs his thumb lightly over Gabe’s pulse point, because he’s _holding his wrist_ \- and Gabe’s leaving, he just _knows_ he’s going to be jerking off to that afternoon for _weeks_.

Of course, he’s forced to rethink that statement, because half an hour after he gets home, his phone lights up with a text from Travie. It’s him asking if Gabe would like to do another shoot, and, because Gabe’s a fucking martyr, he says yes. They set it up for exactly a week from then, and Gabe’s forced to amend his thought from earlier.

He’s going to be jerking off to that afternoon for exactly _one_ week.

\---

Over the course of that week, a lot of things happen.

First, Travie’s able to sell the pictures easily, because apparently Gabe’s cheekbones and jawline are more desirable than he thought.

Then, the pictures are used, and Vicky’s calling him and demanding to know why the hell he let Travie take pictures of his face during their _first session_.

Gabe isn’t exactly sure what his answer is, because truthfully, he has no clue. If it had been any other photographer, he would’ve said _no_ , and if they hadn’t listened, he would have just left. For some reason though, when Travie had asked -both at the cafe, and in his studio- Gabe hadn’t even considered telling him no.

He tells Vicky as much, and she goes quiet for a moment, before humming knowingly and changing the subject. He almost wants to ask her what the hell that ‘uh-huh’ meant, but then decides against it.

By the time he’s finally in Travie’s studio again, it feels like it’s been a lot longer than a week, and stepping into the tranquil room again is a relief.

The session is a lot like the first one, Travie’s got some different outfits, and even though he doesn’t have any reason to, he still compliments Gabe on everything, and again, Gabe leaves knowing he’s going to be thinking about the experience until the next time he sees Travie.

The next couple months fly by, and before Gabe even has time to process it, him and Travie have met for coffee several times, worked together even more, and Gabe feels more comfortable around him than any other photographer he’s ever worked with, as well as any friends he’s ever had.

After their first few sessions together, Travie asks Gabe why he won’t do any full body or face pictures. The first time, Gabe just shrugs and says it’s not something he’s ever really considered doing.

Travie asks again, a couple weeks later, and Gabe almost lies again, but after a moment of contemplating, shrugs again, and tries to come across as uncaring when he explains he doesn’t think he has the body for it. The look Travie gets in his eyes could easily be mistaken for anger, but then he firmly tells Gabe he shouldn’t think that way, that his body is beautiful even if there are any flaws, and Gabe realizes he isn’t angry, he’s _upset_.

 _Why_ Travie is upset that Gabe thinks his body isn’t exactly photogenic -for completely valid reasons, he thinks- is beyond him, but it’s nice to know someone other than Vicky thinks he’d look good without clothes on.

He still doesn’t want any pictures of his chest or his legs or -god forbid- his stomach taken though, because the way he sees it, it doesn’t take a genius to see he looks way better with clothes _on_. He continues to tell Travie that, every time he asks (which is often), yet every time, Travie tells him he’s _wrong_.

That annoys Gabe, because his body looks good in clothes, and Travie should just focus on that, instead of his stupid idea that what’s underneath is better than it actually is.

The idea of Travie actually seeing what’s underneath, and actually seeing that he’s wrong is terrifying to Gabe.

Which is why, the next time he’s over at Travie’s studio, he chooses to wear tight jeans, and is pleased when Travie almost immediately takes notice.

“You know, I’m torn.” He pauses, and gives Gabe time to get confused, before continuing, “I don’t know if I’m disappointed you’re not taking those off today, or if I’m happy.” Gabe feels his cheeks heat, like they often do around Travie, but instead of hiding, or going quiet like he normally would, he smirks at Travie.

“Why do you think I wore them?” Travie blinks at him once, before smiling back at him.

“Just to make my life difficult? Aw baby, you shouldn’t have.” Gabe starts giggling, then catches himself, and shakes his head.

“Okay, where do you want me today?”

“Actually, the answer depends on you.” Gabe makes a questioning noise, and Travie hands him a paper, which turns out to be an email he printed off.

“Well, I’ve got someone who wants me to do a bondage themed shoot, with a male model. They didn’t have any requests as to _who_ the model was, and I wanted to know if you’d be interested.”

Gabe doesn’t answer right away, and Travie rests his hand on the small of Gabe’s back, until Gabe looks up at him. “You won’t have to be completely naked, just shirtless, I won’t take any of your face if you don’t want me to, and as much as it _kills_ me, there won’t be any pictures of you shirtless from the front, just from behind.” He removes his hand, and gives Gabe a reassuring smile. “The poses you’d have to do are listed on there, and if you’re uncomfortable with any of them then I’ll find a different model for it, and we’ll just stick to what you want to do.”

He looks like he expects Gabe to take several minutes, but after a quick scan of the poses the customer wants -like Travie said, none actually highlight his stomach or chest, and nothing requires him taking his pants off- and a slight feeling of completely irrational anger at Travie taking pictures of a _different model_ tied up, he’s handing the paper back and firmly saying “I’ll do it”.

Travie looks surprised, but then a grin spreads across his face, and he takes the paper. “Alrighty then, take your shirt off, and wait for me by the bed. I think we’re gonna start with your wrists.”

Nodding, Gabe takes his shirt off slowly, and sets it on the table, before crossing the room with his arms protectively held over his middle. When Travie makes his way over to him -holding rope oh god- he tsks when he sees Gabe, and throws the ropes onto the bed before reaching out and gripping Gabe’s wrists so he can pull them away.

“Hey, don’t do that, your body’s beautiful.” Gabe feels his cheeks redden, like they _always_ seem to do around Travie, and Travie grins at him. “There you go, now come on, arms behind your back.”

Gabe does as he’s told, and feels a chill run through him as Travie starts tying his wrists together. There’s nothing clumsy about Travie’s movements, and Gabe feels the need to comment. “So uh, you have experience with this kind of thing?” Travie huffs out a laugh from behind him, though he doesn’t fumble.

“You could say that. Though if I’m being honest, it’s never been for taking pictures before.” He squeezes Gabe’s arm when he finishes, and Gabe swallows as his heart seems to do a backflip in his chest. Okay then. “You wanna get on your knees for me?”

Gabe nods, and lets Travie help him kneel by the bed, nerves making his breathing come a little quicker than normal. He’s chewing on his lip hard enough that he knows it’ll bleed, but he can’t bring himself to stop. He doesn’t think Travie will notice, but then there’s a hand resting on his cheek softly.

“Hey hey hey, don’t hurt yourself, you sure you’re alright?” He waits for Gabe to take a deep breath and nod, then smiles. “Okay, just calm down, all you have to do is sit on your knees and do what I tell you.” He stops, and then looks contemplative. “I mean, it’s just like we’re doing a scene? Except we’re doing a shoot. Not a scene. Uh.” He stops when he sees Gabe fighting back laughter, and rolls his eyes. “Well, I got you to smile.”

When he steps away from Gabe again, he’s glad to see the tension has left Gabe’s shoulders, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath before going to grab his camera and tripod.

He takes a few warm up shots, before he likes the lighting, then starts telling Gabe how to shift. “Sit up on your knees, back straight, and look straight ahead. Good.” Next, it’s “Alright, relax, rest back on your heels, spread your legs a little, and look down.”

Gabe obeys each order easily, almost like it’s second nature, and Travie feels like a little bit of a douche about it, but at one point he tells Gabe to tilt his head to the left, just to see if he'll question him. 

Of course, because _someone somewhere_ wants Travie dead, Gabe just _does it_ , and then Travie’s looking at the beautifully unmarked, long expanse of Gabe’s neck. Travie has to physically fight back a groan, and continues taking pictures.

Sooner than either of them really wants, Travie finishes the set, and then crouches to untie Gabe. When he’s finished, he helps Gabe get to his feet, and is a little shocked to see how _calm_ he looks. His body is relaxed, no tension anywhere, and his the look on his face could only be described as serene. There’s a small smile on Gabe’s face though, and that’s enough to reassure Travie. When Gabe sees Travie staring at him, his smile grows.

“Hey, so that wasn’t so bad.” Travie snorts, mentally shaking himself, and gestures towards the bed.

“Well, that was just the first set, you alright for the next one?” Gabe nods, and crawls onto the bed, watching Travie as he goes to one of the drawers. As he watches him, Gabe wonders what’s in all of the drawers Travie has. Absentmindedly, he realizes he’d love to find out, and decides someday he’ll get Travie to show him.

He’s drawn out of his thoughts when Travie turns back towards him, this time carrying some strings of white fairy lights. Gabe screws up his face and confusion, and points at them. “Uuuh what are we doing with those? Decorating your studio like a hipster teenage girls bedroom?”

Travie laughs, and shakes his head as he nears the bed. “Not quite babe. You mind putting your hands on out towards the bed posts for me?” Gabe raises an eyebrow, but does as he’s told. Travie plugs the lights in the outlet behind the bed, then climbs on the bed beside Gabe, and begins tying his left wrist with one strand, before leaning over Gabe to tie his right. Gabe makes a contemplative sound -dimly registering the fact that Travie is _on top of him_ -, and looks up at Travie where he’s hovering over him.

“This is kind of an odd idea, what’s the point?” Travie shrugs, and finishes tying the lights, a grin on his face.

“The point baby boy, is the aesthetic. I’m gonna shut the big lights off-” He points at a lamp in the corner. “-leave that on dim for the camera, and all we’re gonna see are your pretty limbs all wrapped up in lights.” He fixes Gabe with a playful look. “Sound good?”

Gabe licks his lips, and nods, words seeming to completely leave him. Travie looks smug, and Gabe sticks his tongue out at him, which earns him a laugh. Then Travie’s focusing on wrapping lights around his ankles, and working them up his calves until he runs out.

When he’s done, he gets off the bed, and gives Gabe an attentive look. “Alright, are you okay?”

Gabe hums in confirmation, for some reason finding it difficult to speak, and Travie nods, then begins shutting the overhead lights off. Gabe had never realized exactly how many lights there were in Travie’s studio, until they’re all off, and the only things still on are the small light in the corner that’s nowhere near bright enough to really do anything except make it easier for Travie to see, and the lights keeping Gabe tied firmly to the bed.

Travie’s quick with getting the pictures done, then comes back over to Gabe, an easy smile on his face as he begins untying the lights from Gabe’s left hand. He mumbles something about Gabe being prettier than the stupid fucking _lights_ , and Gabe has to look away from him to collect himself.

After a moment, Gabe looks back at Travie, only to see him staring back. Travie blinks, then averts his eyes, and brings his hand up to rub at the side of his neck.

“I uh. Was just. I finished with this hand, and then you were-um.” He blinks again, and Gabe laughs softly, hoping to ease the tension.

“You know, if uh. If I wasn’t well, tied up yet, I’d kiss you.”

A smile slowly starts to break out on Travie’s face again, and he raises one shoulder in a shrug. “What would you do, if I tried to kiss you now?”

Gabe licks his lips, and breathes out a quiet, “Do it.”.

Then, Travie’s leaning over him, a hand cradling his cheek, and then - _oh god_ \- he’s kissing him, and Gabe’s kissing back. It’s so sweet, and Travie’s being so _careful_ , and Gabe really wants to complain, but _oh_.

Every time Gabe pushes for more, Travie gives it to him, and then some. There’s a hand on his bare side -goosebumps everywhere-, and the hand on his cheek has slid back so it’s cradling his head. Gabe’s about ready to pull away and start begging for something _else_ , when Travie pulls away first, mumbling “Wait, wait, babe, stop.”

Gabe feels his heart drop, and he tries to hide it when he looks up at Travie, and asks, “What’s wrong?” but judging by how Travie’s eyes soften, he doesn’t do a very good job hiding his disappointment.

Travie doesn’t lean down to kiss him again, but he leans over Gabe and unties his other wrist, before hovering over him again. He presses a soft kiss to Gabe’s forehead, and smiles when Gabe’s arms come up to rub at his sides.

“Let’s-not here.” At Gabe’s confused look, he takes a breath, and continues. “Let me take you back to my place.” 

Gabe’s quiet for all of five seconds, before he’s grinning. “I thought you had the bed here just in case something like this happened.”

Travie grins back and shrugs, before leaning down further and nipping softly at Gabe’s neck, before kissing back up to his ear. “That was the plan but-” He lifts his head up again, and he shakes his head softly. “-I guess I never counted on you.”

Gabe swallows, and brings a hand up to grip at Travie’s bicep. “Take me home, _please_.”

Travie nods, and moves down to untie Gabe’s legs. The next half hour is a blur; and the only thing Gabe really remembers clearly from it is Travie pushing Gabe up against the door of his apartment as soon as they’re inside.

Travie seems to make it his mission to remove as much clothing as possible from Gabe while he’s pressed up against the door, moaning in between each desperate kiss. After Travie gets Gabe shirt off (again), he pulls his own off, and before Gabe can stop it he’s letting out a loud groan. Travie grins at him. “Like what you see baby boy?”

Gabe nods, and loops his fingers in Travie’s belt loops, pulling him forward. “I’m uuh, kind of wondering why you’re always _behind_ the camera right now.” Travie laughs, and uses the momentum from Gabe pulling him, to push Gabe back into the door. He slides his hands behind Gabe’s back, as he starts pressing kisses to Gabe’s jaw.

“It’s because I’d much rather look at you in front of the camera. Now come on, _up_.” He accentuates the last word with a tight squeeze to Gabe’s hips, then shifts his grip to Gabe’s ass as Gabe jumps up. Gabe wraps his arms around Travie’s neck, and bites at Travie’s neck as he starts moving. Travie smacks his ass in reciprocation, and Gabe giggles, pressing a kiss to the spot he bit to soothe it.

They finally reach Travie’s bedroom, and Gabe has a moment to take in the bed, and the large window across the room, before he’s being thrown onto the bed. Once he’s settled, he looks up at Travie, and groans when he sees he’s removing his jeans. Travie huffs a laugh, and then he’s helping Gabe remove his jeans as well.

After Gabe’s kicked his jeans away, Travie crawls onto the bed after him, trailing kisses up his side as Gabe spreads his legs for him, and up to his neck, before pressing a kiss to Gabe’s cheek. Gabe smiles, and turns his head so Travie will kiss his lips. Travie complies for a moment, then pulls away, ignoring Gabe’s protesting groan.

“Sssh baby, you’re okay,” He presses a kiss to Gabe’s neck. “I’m gonna make you feel good alright?” Gabe groans, and nods desperately.

“Yeah, please, I want it.” Travie presses another kiss to Gabe’s collarbone, before lifting himself up and reaching over to his bedside table for lube and a condom. 

Gabe propped himself up onto his elbows to watch Travie slick his fingers up, letting out a choked off gasp when Travie presses a kiss to his thigh, and pushes a finger in. Gabe groans as it slides in, and after a few minutes, is begging Travie to add another.

After he slides in the second finger, Travie begins pressing kisses to Gabe’s thigh again, a wide grin on his face as he discovers that Gabe is responsive as _fuck_. Twisting his fingers just right gets him a little gasp, sucking a hickey into Gabe’s hip earns a moan, and drawing his fingers out slowly gets him a whimper and a _please_ that has him convinced he’d give Gabe the goddamn moon if he wanted it.

After three fingers, Gabe has one hand gripping the pillow, and the other is squeezing Travie’s shoulder. “T-Travie please just fuck me, I’m ready I can take it _please_.”

Travie lets out a groan, and finally pulls his fingers away from Gabe’s body. He smirks at Gabe’s low noise of disapproval from the loss of contact, but otherwise ignores it as he rolls the condom on and slicks himself up quickly.

He pushes into Gabe at a slow pace, so that by the time he’s fully inside, Gabe’s already begging him to move. Travie grips Gabe’s thighs hard, and guides them Gabe wraps his legs around his waist, and then he moves his grip to Gabe’s hips. 

When Travie had previously imagined fucking Gabe, he’s not entirely sure what he’d imagined, but he knows Gabe’s high pitched whimpers he lets out whenever Travie’s cock slides against his prostate, and the gasps he makes when Travie sucks a mark onto his neck were definitely not what he imagined.

There’s no way he ever could’ve imagined how Gabe sounds, or looks, or _feels_ in bed.

Another thing he never could’ve imagined, was how perfect he looked when he finally pushed Gabe over the edge. As much as Travie knew Gabe wanted to keep his eyes open, he couldn’t when he began to come, and his grip on Travie was tight enough he knew he’d have scratches for weeks.

That thought, along with the sight of the darkening marks on Gabe’s neck, and how fucking tight Gabe is around him, is enough to have Travie coming too.

After they both have caught their breath, it’s clear Gabe expects Travie to ask him to leave, but Travie pulls him into bed next to him, and talks to him in between pressing kisses to the soft smile on his face.

He talks until he’s sure Gabe’s asleep, then finally allows himself to close his eyes, and follow.

\---

When Gabe wakes up, it’s to the soft sound of Travie breathing. The room is still dark, and when he gets up to find his phone -and smiling softly at the pleasant soreness spread throughout his body- he finds it’s almost six. He glances back at Travie, and debates getting back into bed, but after a minute he figures he probably won’t be able to sleep anyway, so he slips his boxers from the day before back on, and quietly leaves the room to see if Travie has a coffee maker.

He’s not entirely sure whether Travie wants him to still be at his place when he wakes up, but Gabe’s already decided he’s not leaving yet, and even if Travie wants him to leave, at least he’ll get some free coffee first.

The thought of Travie wanting him to just _leave_ makes Gabe anxious, and he spends the entire time it takes half of the coffee pot to fill just staring into space and trying to reason with himself.

 _Nothing_ Travie has said or done in the last few months of their friendship has indicated that all he wants is a fuck. If anything, his actions have insinuated the opposite. He’s never once made Gabe _actually_ uncomfortable, and Gabe knows if he’d told Travie he was uncomfortable at any point, he’d have stopped whatever it was he was doing.

Gabe sighs, and starts looking through Travie’s cupboards for a mug. He feels like a snoop, but it’s not enough to keep him from looking, finding one, and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Once he’s got his coffee, he’s unsure of what to do with himself, so he takes it back to the bedroom, and when he finds Travie still asleep, grabs a cigarette and his lighter from the pocket of his jeans, and goes to sit on the cushions in front of the window.

Looking out of the window, he can see how much LA is already moving, even in the barely there light, and beyond that, more buildings, and more, and then the sun. It’s breathtaking, and Gabe decides right then and there it’s the best spot in Travie’s entire apartment.

He leans back against the wall, his shoulder pressed against the window, and lights his cigarette, glancing back at Travie before turning his attention back outside. He’s not sure of much right now, but he knows he’s not going to miss the sunrise.

\---

When Travie wakes up, it’s to an empty bed, and a heartstopping thirty seconds of thinking Gabe’s left. He takes a deep breath before opening his eyes, preparing himself for the inevitable, and then props himself up on his elbows and opens his eyes.

He blinks groggily for a moment, dimly registering the scent of coffee and cigarette smoke, and then he sees the silhouette against the sun just starting to come in the window, and he can breathe again.

Then he takes in the scene, and he can’t breathe.

Gabe’s wearing nothing but his boxers, his hair is still sleep messed, and his cigarette is hanging loosely from his fingers where his arm is resting on his raised knee. He’s looking out the window, and obviously hasn’t realized Travie’s awake yet, and he’s the most breathtaking thing Travie’s ever seen.

Before he realizes it, he’s reaching over to his bedside table to grab his camera -it’s an instinct; he sees something pretty, he takes a picture- and as he’s sitting up again, camera in hand, Gabe must hear him, and finally turns to look at him.

His eyes are wide, and when he sees the camera in Travie’s hands, his face scrunches adorably, and then he’s looking at Travie again, his voice coming out softer and quieter than Travie’s ever heard it when he finally speaks.

“Hey, what’s that for?”

Travie looks down at his hand, then back up. He shrugs. “I just-you’re-you look like an angel right now, can I just.....I won’t show anyone.”

Gabe bites his lip, before nodding slowly, then turns around and brings the cigarette back up to his lips. Travie smiles softly as he turns back to his camera, turning it on and fiddling with the settings a moment, before holding it up, and taking the first picture.

Taking pictures of Gabe’s body is always enjoyable for Travie, he’s made for the camera, and that’s when he’s _clothed_.

Now, almost completely bare, and relaxed like he almost never is in front of the camera -except for the day before, when Travie had him tied up, which Travie is _not_ going to think about at the moment- and Travie’s almost afraid if he doesn’t get the pictures now, Gabe will just disappear.

After a minute or so of taking pictures, Travie sets the camera down, and gets out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweatpants from his dresser and tugging them on before moving over to where Gabe is still sitting. When he reaches him, he rests a hand on Gabe’s back, grabs the cigarette from his mouth, and leans down to kiss him.

When he pulls away, Gabe has a smile on his face. Travie returns it, then brings a hand up to rub his thumb over one of the many dark red marks littered over Gabe’s neck, collarbone, and chest.

Gabe groans softly. Travie grins, then presses a kiss to Gabe’s forehead. “How you feelin’ baby boy?”

“Good. I’m hungry though.” Travie laughs, and steps back, holding out a hand for Gabe.

“Alright, I’ll make you something to eat then.” At Gabe’s raised eyebrows, Travie gives him a confused look. “What? Did you think I was just gonna fuck you then make you leave?”

Gabe shrugs. “I-well.” Travie huffs, and pulls him up.

“Nope. Come on, I’m gonna make you the best breakfast you’ve ever had, then I’m gonna fuck you again, and you’re not leaving until you absolutely have to.” When he hears Gabe giggling, he continues. “And even then? I might just follow you home, then I can-” He’s interrupted by Gabe kissing him. 

It’s barely a kiss, because both of them are laughing into it, but by the time they break away they’re both smiling so hard it doesn’t matter. Shaking his head, Travie pulls Gabe in the direction of the kitchen, and if breakfast gets postponed because Gabe pushes Travie against the counter and drops to his knees to suck him off, then that just makes the morning that much more perfect.

Later, when Travie gets his camera, and they look at the pictures Travie took that morning, Gabe has to admit that, yeah, Travie made him look good. Travie made him look really good.

Travie insists it was all Gabe, but in the end, it leads to Gabe agreeing to let Travie take pictures of him however he wants, so they agree to disagree.


End file.
